


Garotas Sensuais Hipnotizadas

by NickelModelTales



Category: Original Work
Genre: Brazil, Exploitation, F/F, F/M, Football | Soccer, Gender Issues, Hypnotism, Master/Slave, Porn With Plot, Sexism, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: To earn a little desperately-needed money, a Brazilian women’s soccer team agrees to be hypnotized in sleazy online videos.





	1. Some Really Easy Money

**_Salvador, Brazil.  2010_ **

 

**_Here they come!_ **

Bianca and I tense, realizing that the other team’s center is about to charge from our right.  That’s bad; we’re spread really thin over there.  In football (that’s soccer to you Americans), its fatal if your defense is weak on any flank.  An opposing team can charge through your gaps, and then there’s very little you can do.  The game might be lost, right here.

Without so much as a glance in my direction, Bianca tacks further right to cover our gap.  She’s on her own, but she’s all we’ve got.  That leaves the counteroffensive up to me.

 _Com’on, Valentina,_ I tell myself.  _Its up to you!_

I gulp in a deep breath, ignoring the aching of my sides.  We can’t afford to lose this game.  Knowing I’m likely to get pulverized, I race to intercept the invaders.

The opposing guard sees me coming and veers off.  Bad move, chick.  I close the distance with their leader, and too late, she realizes we’re on a collision course.  A game of chicken.  I see her tense and hesitate, and I strike.  It’s a foolhardy move, but I risk it all and swing my right foot for the ball.  I connect.

The ball instantly **_changes_** trajectory, now careening back towards their goal.

Now our opponents are in disarray!  I pour on the speed, struggling to keep on my feet and get the ball under my control.  Two of their defensive guards are on me instantly, and were I alone, this assault would be short-lived.

I hear my teammates shouting at me.  In the corner of my right eye, I see a flash of yellow and green – our colors – and realize Bianca has kept up with me.  Good ol’ B.  I have a chance.

Luckily I’ve planted my right foot.  With my left, I smack the ball, sending it towards my teammate and out of the clutches of the other side.  Bianca is ready.  She accepts, masterfully controlling the ball like the pro she is.

We’ve a wide open path to their goal; we caught their goalie unawares!  Yes!  I dodge an opposing guard and assume position as B’s wingman.  I hear thundering feet right behind us.  Jesus, the **_entire opposing team_** must be over my shoulder!

 _Com’on B!_ I think desperately.  We only have one shot at this.

Racing at top speed, I flank Bianca, praying she has time to set the kick.

She doesn’t.  The other team is upon us; I can hear them panting and growling as they overtake us.

Bianca, knowing its now or never, shoots…

…the ball rockets across the field…

… landing neatly in the center of the opposition net.  **_We’ve scored!!!_**

**_WE’VE SCORED!!!  YES!!!_ **

**_YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!_ **

The whistle blows.  All players slow from sprints to jogs to walking.  I hear my teammates whooping and shouting with glee.  We’re up 4-2 now!  Only twenty minutes left to hold our lead!  Things are looking good.

But then thunder rumbles, far above us.  I turn my sweaty face skyward.  The clouds are gray and growing darker.

The few spectators remaining offer scattered applause for Bianca and me.  Only now I see how empty the bleachers are.  We barely filled a third of the seats at the top of the game; now most of the crowd has already fled.  Anticipating a downpour, no doubt.

I curse softly to myself.  My feet and knees hurt badly, probably from running too hard in these worn-down shoes.  My sides are sore, and I’ve skinned myself in three different places.  I’ll need to ice my shins when I limp off the field.

You’d think the taste of imminent victory would eclipse these aches and pains.  But I can’t help feeling disgruntled.  Brazilians are supposed to be the most passionate football lovers on the planet.  Why is it my sisters and I are out here killing ourselves, slugging out one of the toughest games ever played…

…and **_no-one cares?!?_**

*********

Three hours later, my sisters and I have hit the showers and retreated to the _Lutando Gatinhas_ teamhouse.  Most of the team has either slunk home or gone to bed.  Only Bianca, Rayssa, and I remain in the common room.

Holding a rapidly-melting icepack to my left knee, I glower out the rain-splattered window.  My thoughts are as dark as the sky above.  The _Liga de Futebol das Mulheres_ was supposed to be the Football league which brought women’s football out of the shadows and into the mainstream.

You have to understand:  Brazil **_loves_** football.  If global power and wealth and universal peace were possible, but at the cost of our beloved sport, Brazilians would opt for abject misery rather than give up football.  Our version of Hell is a world where football never existed.

Seriously, do you know what happens when our men’s team makes it to the World Cup?  The Brazilian economy shuts down.  For real.  While our boys are playing, there are no cars on the roads, no workers in the factories, not even cops patrolling our streets.  **_Everyone_** is home, glued to the television, screaming for our team to score.  If the country were ever invaded during the play-offs, no Brazilian would notice.

But this is for **_men_** players.

Women?  I love my country and my people, but we are **_really_** backwards when it comes to women and football.  In Brazil, women are supposed to be sexy.  Not athletes.  A woman is supposed to have a shapely body, is supposed to remain in the kitchen, is supposed to root for the men.  She’s **_never_** supposed to step onto the field and sweat – oh, no!  **_That_** would make you a lesbian.  And worse.

The times are changing, but very slowly.  That’s where _Liga de Futebol das Mulheres_ was supposed to come in, a national league of only women players.  The league’s optimistic founders hoped than once the people saw how passionately us women players loved this game, attitudes would change.  After all, football is in Brazil’s blood, right?

Well… it hasn’t happened.  The League, once off to a good start, is on the verge of financial collapse.  Sponsors for our teams are quietly disappearing and I can’t help but notice that every month another resource is cut.  Now we are reduced to playing in the smaller university fields, assuming the universities don’t need the space.

I sigh.  When I was lucky enough to sign with the _Lutando com Gatinhas_ , I pictured myself playing before appreciative crowds, people who were excited to realize that women can play football, too!  Small girls with wide eyes would watch me in the field and say to themselves, “Someday, I could be **_her!_** ”

I’ve never seen any little girls at our games.  Not one.

“Hey, you guys,” Bianca says, trying to lighten the mood, “you want to play some chess?”

She rummages through the teamhouse’s storage closet, fishing out the ancient chess set.  Three pieces are missing, and I always forget which ones.  But its all we have, until the cable bill can be paid.

Bianca – I call her B – goes to work setting up the board.  “You in?” she asks Rayssa.

“Naw, _chica_ ,” says Rayssa, glued to her phone.  “I’m hunting for a gig.”

Rayssa, who comes from some money, is the only one of us who can afford a smartphone.  One of the things I like about Ray is that she obviously could have chosen a life of luxury with her stuffy family.  Instead, she’s down in the mud and grass with us other _garotas de futebol_.

B prods me into a game.  So I switch the ice pack from my left knee to my right and try to concentrate.

Five moves in, I’m losing badly and my mood is worsening.  “ _Que vacilo_ , Valentina!” B chides me as she takes a rook.  “You don’t like to win?”

“Hey, you guys,” Rayssa says suddenly.  “You want to make some really easy money?”

B and I glance at once another, already suspicious.

One of the grim realities of being a _Liga_ player is that you really are on your own for most of your expenses.  The league provides minimal board and two meals a day, but that’s about it.  We players are left to our own devices to supplement our incomes.

Its not easy.  Most jobs won’t tolerate the demanding schedules of women players, so we have to get creative.  Unfortunately, this means a lot of work where we… well, there’s no nice way to say it… where we get paid for being sexy girls.

Last month, a bunch of us worked as display girls for a car show.  We dressed in tiny shorts, high heels, sports bras.  We posed next to shiny, oversized American cars, with fake smiles plastered to our faces.  And we spent the day getting out butts pinched by every lowlife in a ten kilometer radius.  I hated it… but it brought in eighty-two thousand _reals_ for the teamhouse.

“What’d you find, Ray?” I ask warily.

One thing I have to say about Rayssa is that she is a wiz at finding money-making gigs.  A lot of what she finds would shame our mothers and the coach.  But we are desperate women.  Last week, she found a gig where she, Bianca, and me all posed for an artsy photographer.  We were in the nude, except we wore gorilla masks.  I have no idea why this pervert wanted these photos, but it put 400 _reals_ our pockets, each.  The time before that, Rayssa got us paying spots for wearing bikinis in a music video.  When we couldn’t do the dance steps – we’re athletes, for Christ’s sake – we were placed in the back.  But we still netted 500 _reals_ apiece.

Rayssa looks at Bianca and me, a touch of mischief in her eyes.

“How would you girls like to get hypnotized?” she asks.

B echoes, “Hypnotized?”

“Check it, _chicas_ ,” Rayssa replies, and shows us her phone.

On the screen is a website, _Garotas Sensuais Hipnotizadas_.  I see many videos, each one featuring a young woman or women smiling at the camera.

Rayssa taps on a video, _Enfermeira em Transe_.  A woman in a tight little nurse’s outfit is sitting in a chair, seemingly asleep.  A male voice, off-camera, chants, “ _…three… four… five, wide awake!_ ”

The woman opens her eyes and sits up.  She smiles at the man off-screen.

“ _How do you feel?_ ” the guy asks.

“ _Yeah, good,_ ” she replies.  “ _Hey,_ _I don’t know if I’m really hyp-_ “

The man interrupts her, “ _Pássaro canoro!_ ”

Instantly, the woman’s expression changes.  She springs to her feet, loudly singing:  “ _Sacudir estrelas / Despertar desejo / Numa noite fria…!_ ”

Rayssa snorts with laughter.  “She thinks she’s Daniela Mercury.”

I watch a bit more.  The entire video seems to consist of this poor woman being put to sleep, then commanded to do silly things.

I sigh.  “I don’t know, Ray.”

“You guys,” Rayssa coaxes, reading more of the website, “we contact this guy and schedule our own session.  When **_we_** want.  How many jobs do that?”

“Do we have to get naked?” I ask, hating that this is a necessary question.

Rayssa looks nonplussed.  “Doesn’t say, Valentina.  None of these other _chicas_ are nude, though.”

I frown.  I don’t like the sound of this.

I can tell B feels as I do.  She moves a bishop, then comments, “I don’t know, guys.  I’m getting tired of being a sexy girl just so I can keep playing in the League.”

Rayssa’s eyes pop.  “ ** _You guys,_** ” she intones.  “The pay is twelve hundred _reals_.  Per hour.  Per girl.”

My hand freezes as I reach for a knight.  “Say again?”

“Twelve hundred,” Rayssa reads again.

I move my knight, then sit back to think.  Wow.  Twelve hundred.  For that, I could replace my shoes and give my arches some desperately-needed relief.

“Let me see,” B commands, and takes Rayssa’s phone.

I study my two friends.  We are all quite pretty and given our passion to play in the _Liga_ , we should probably be realistic and go out for more… sexy-type jobs.  If you’re okay with posing half-naked but not willing to be **_actually_** naked, you can make decent money.  Not great, but decent.

But then, we’re trying to make the _Liga_ respected in the eyes of the public.  If it came out that our players were doing weird erotica on the side… well, the shreds of public support we have left would evaporate.  I grimace.

“We should do this,” B says, determination in her voice.

I stare at her, surprised.

“I was hypnotized once, in secondary school,” she says matter-of-factly.  “We’ll do some embarrassing stuff, but then you laugh about it after.”

“Right,” seconds Rayssa.

“Guys,” I argue, “we don’t really know who this… hypnotist guy is.”

“Okay, Valentina,” B says lightly.  “You sit this one out.  Ray and me will go.”

She moves her queen.  “Checkmate.”

*********

Rayssa calls the hypnosis guy and makes the arrangements.  When she describes what we do, he gets excited and says he wants to hypnotize us as “ _garotas de futebol sensuais_ ” or “sexy soccer girls.”  We’re to come in skimpy football outfits.  Ugh.

I am happy with none of this, but I grudgingly agree, if only because I **_really_** need that cash.  I borrow a little polyester/spandex top that is two sizes too small, plus a tiny pair of short shorts.  My boobs are popping out the top and my ass is popping out the bottom.  I’m showing off a **_lot_** of midriff.  With my knee-high gym socks, I look like a really slutty sports girl.  Which I guess is the point.

Bianca and Rayssa don similar outfits, and the three of us brave the bus.  This is a big mistake.  Every man aboard – the bus driver included – leers at us.  My butt is groped twice when I get on and three times when I get off.  Why didn’t I wear an overcoat?

We are now in Rio Vermelho, which is Salvador’s artsy district.  I don’t come here often.  Rayssa leads us through the winding streets to a drab little photography studio on _R. Archibaldo Baleeiro_.  She rings the intercom.  We are buzzed in.

Once through the door, I pick my wedgie for the billionth time and wonder, _Valentina Pereira, what have you gotten yourself into now?_

*********

The hypnotist proves to be a skinny guy named Augusto Mendes.  In his late 20s, Augusto is compact, with some muscles, but developing a bit of a gut right above his hips.  He’s got a cute little beard and mustache, meticulously groomed, and his thinning hair is also well-presented.  He’s moderately attractive, I guess, although I don’t like his narrow eyes or his smile.  He wears a sleeveless shirt, baggy shorts, and orange flip-flops.  **_Orange!_**   Augusto is a fashion outcast.

But this Augusto is super-excited to see us.  “ _Nossa!_ ” he exclaims when we enter the little studio room he has rented.  Bianca blushes and flirts a little, but Rayssa and I just smile politely.

“Come in, come in,” Augusto says.

I look around, unimpressed.  We’re in a big, empty room, with drab white walls and a lumpy-looking couch against one wall.  There’s two bright lights up on stands, and a small digicamera on a tripod.  That’s it.

Jeez, my primary school photos were done in fancier settings than this.

Augusto offers us bottled water, but I’d rather just get this whole perverted exercise over with.

“Sure thing, sure thing,” Augusto agrees, rubbing his hands.  “You ladies have any questions about getting hypnotized?”

“Some ground rules, actually,” I say pointedly.  I lay down what I think are reasonable conditions:

  1. Bianca, Rayssa, and I keep all of our clothes on.
  2. We will say our first names, but not our last names.
  3. We are “football players,” but our team is never mentioned by name.



“Sure thing,” Augusto smiles.  “That sounds fine.”

“One more thing,” I add.  “Our boyfriends know we’re up here.  If we’re not outside in an hour, they’ll beat the living shit out of you.”

I’m lying, of course.  But you can never be too careful.

Augusto looks a bit taken aback, but he recovers quickly.  “Sure thing, no problemo, _chicka_ ,” he assures me.

And then a strange look washes over Augusto’s face.  “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” he says.  “You _chickas_ are athletes, right?  You want to up your game?”

I glance at B and Rayssa.  “Yeah,” I say.  “So?”

“Hypnotism can enhance athletic performance,” Augusto boasts.  “I’ll give you some suggestions for your game.”

I’m not sure I want Augusto doing anything else in my head that we haven’t agreed to, but my ladies seem fine.  “That’s cool,” Rayssa nods.  “I hear the Australian teams use hypnotists all the time.  They scored well last year.”

Augusto nods, as if no more needs to be said.  He gestures to the sofa.

B, Rayssa, and I sit.  Somehow I’m in the middle.

Augusto looms over us.  “And now, ladies,” he smirks, “let’s put you under…”

*********


	2. Manda Brasa, Senhoras!

It is three hours later.  The hypnotism is over.  I feel **_sooooo_** relaxed and chill, like I had a full day at the spa.  From their good moods and wide smiles, I can tell Bianca and Rayssa feel the same.

We are sitting in a steakhouse, not far from Augusto’s shooting studio on the _Rua Conselheiro Pedro Luiz_.  We **_should_** be headed straight back to the teamhouse and change into reasonable street clothes, especially considering how much cash we are now carrying.  But my friends and I are feeling so good, we couldn’t resist celebrating a little.

I sneak a peek into the manila envelope Augusto gave me at the end of our shoot.  Fifteen hundred _reals_!  For an hour’s shoot?  I can’t believe it.  That’s even more than I expected.  Maybe Augusto is tipping me?

I really don’t remember much from the actual hypnotism.  I remember Augusto telling us to close our eyes.  Then he chanted to us, a lot, and at some point, my thoughts wandered off.  I was sleeping, yet totally aware of what he was telling me.  Funny how I can’t remember anything now…

Rayssa’s memory is a blank like mine, but Bianca has some vague recollections.  “I think he made us believe that we were in a dance contest,” she says, absently twirling the straw in her _Cachaça_.  “We were also… superheroes?  I’m not sure.”

Man, I’m almost glad I don’t remember.

The waiter brings our steaks, ogling our cleavage as he serves.  Although mine is steaming hot, I eagerly slice into the meat and pop a big, juicy chunk straight into my cheek.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh… _bacama!_ ” I moan as the flavor seeps across my tongue.  Wow, this is really **_unbelievably_** good.  We were so right to come here.  How long has it been since I had a good steak?

I consider that question as I saw off another hunk of beef.  Could it be… over a year?  Since I became a _Liga_ player?

B is also attacking her fillet.  Rayssa is about to eat too, but can’t resist checking her smartphone one last time.

“ _Saquei!_ ” she cries.  “Its up!”

My mouth full, I slide my chair sideways so I can look over her shoulder.  She is on Augusto’s _Garotas Sensuais Hipnotizadas_ website, and now there is a new video available: “ **Sexy Football Girls Hypnotized.** ”  Ray taps the link.

The full video costs 101 _reals_ to download, but there are two small sample clips.  The first one is of me!

In the video, I’m sitting on Augusto’s couch, deep asleep.  The hypnotist has his hand on my shoulder, and he tells me, “ _When I wake you up, every time I snap my fingers, you’ll be totally convinced that I have just pinched your butt.  Even if I am far away, you will believe I have somehow pinched your butt every time I snap my fingers.  Nod your head if you understand._ ”

The hypnotized me in the video nods, exactly once.

The scene skips forward, and now I am wide awake.  The shot is wider, and you can see B and Rayssa sitting beside me; they are completely asleep.

“ _Hey there,_ senhora,” Augusto asks me, “ _how you feelin’?_ ”

I’m opening my mouth to reply when he snaps his fingers, directly before my face.

I leap to my feet, my hands quickly covering my tush.  “ _Hey!_ ” I cry indignantly.

“ _What’s the_ pepino _?_ ” Augusto asks me, innocently.

“ _Don’t you pinch my butt!_ ” I tell him indignantly.

“ _Sorry,_ ” Augusto tells me, and take three steps back.  We are easily a meter apart.  “ _This better?_ ”

Before I can respond, he snaps his fingers again.

I yelp, jumping in the air and putting both hands over my rear.  “ _Hey!_ ” I protest.

B has huddled up with Rayssa and me to watch the video.  “Wow, Valentina” she comments with a smile, “you really got owned, girl.”

I stare at the little screen in amazement.  I don’t remember **_any_** of what I’ve just seen.  The girl in the video is clearly me, wearing my clothes, speaking in my voice, operating my body.  But otherwise, its like I’m watching a complete stranger.

The clip ends.  “Let’s see the next one,” Rayssa says, tapping the other demo link.

B, Rayssa, and I are once again sitting on the couch, deep asleep.  Augusto is telling us, “ _In a moment,_ senhoras _, you will hear music.  The instant you do, you will awaken and you will be convinced you are in a dance competition.  The sexiest, dirtiest dancer will be the winner.  You_ **have** _to win!_ ”

The hypnotist presses a button on a tiny remote control, and then truly awful rap music plays.

Immediately, B, Rayssa, and I open our eyes and leap to our feet.  We dance.  We dance as if possessed.  We gyrate, shaking our hips and shoulders like we were born to do it.  Rayssa moves a bit better than B or me, and I remember she once had salsa training.  But we are all throwing ourselves into the role.

“ _Uau!_ ” exclaims Rayssa.  She is deeply amused.

I catch glimpses of my own face.  I look as if I’m concentrating and very horny at the same time.  My eyes are half-shut and my mouth is open just the slightest bit.

On screen, I whirl around and the cameraman zooms in on my butt.  There it is, my butt, filling the screen, jiggling away.  I blush before I can stop myself.  The camera pans left, and now it is doing an extreme close-up of B’s bouncing chest.

The clip ends.

I search my mind, wondering how is it possible that I could ever behave in such a crazy way… and then **_remember nothing_** afterward?  Even now, as I rummage about in my memory, I draw a complete blank.  Well…  there is something kinda familiar about the dancing video…  But I don’t know if that counts as a memory.

“Okay,” Rayssa shrugs, tucking away her phone.  “That’s kind of what I was expecting.”  She doesn’t seem too put out.

My friends and I eat, talking about what it was like to be hypnotized.  Even after seeing the evidence, we really don’t recall much.  But I can’t say I’m as ashamed of the experience as I was afraid I would be.

*********

The next day is a productive one.  I rise early, and rather than go for my usual run, I decide to buy new shoes.  I find a springy blue pair which appeal to me.  And it’s a relief to throw out the old shoes.

The team has practice at 10 am.  Coach Renan is pleased with our previous victory, but worries that we are not coordinating our defense well.  After running drills and regular exercises, we study the new plays she has devised.  This produces a lot of arguments, but in the end, I think we’ll be better off.

And maybe its my imagination, but practice seems to fly by.  Usually I am a sweaty, heaving mess when the 5 pm whistle blows.  Today, I feel like I could go another three hours.  Huh.

We hit the showers.

*********

As it is Friday night, Bianca, Rayssa, and I have decided to go to the movies.  We don’t have boyfriends – lamentable! – so for now, our own company will have to do.  I get dressed up anyway.  After the movie, we might cruise a bar or two.  You never know if you’ll meet someone.  Luck favors the prepared.

The cinema was packed, and our choice of movie was terrible, but we don’t care.  Feeling free and invigorated, my girlfriends and I queue up for a nightclub.

We are in line, chatting with some cute boys named Thales, Luiz Miguel, and Henry.  I particularly like Henry; so _gato_ , skinny, nice eyes, fair build, brown hair, perfect teeth, great taste in clothes.  He and I are inching closer to each other as we flirt.  So nice.  There is potential here.

But I keep glancing at my watch.  It is 9:58 pm.  Why this nags at me, I can’t say.  Oh well.

“You play for _Lutando com Gatinhas_?” Henry asks, sounding impressed.  “Oh, _legal!_   I have to come and catch a game.”

“Yes, you do,” I tease him.

Usually when boys discover that I am a football player, they feel threatened or assume I’m a lesbian.  Not Henry.  He seems excited by my occupation.  I watch in delight as his grin grows wider.

The line moves up.  As we jostle, Henry slides a little closer towards me.  Our fingertips meet and gently curl around each other.

“What are you doing after?” he asks.

I blush a little, but glance at my watch.  It is 10:00 pm.

I have to go.

“I have to go,” I say automatically.

Without thinking, I step out of line, leaving Henry without so much as a backward glance.  I hear him cry after me, but I ignore him.  I have to go.

Bianca and Rayssa are beside me, also abandoning their positions in the queue.  We walk to the curb, and do our best to hail a taxi in the thick evening traffic.

*********

Soon my friends and I are riding through the city.  It’s a little strange; we sit in silence, not speaking at all.  My thoughts are a bit scattered.

The taxi turns onto _R. Pedro Milton de Brito_ in Barra, then pulls over.  We pay the fare, step onto the curb, and without a word, approach an apartment building.  B buzzes Apartment 3F.

On the elevator ride up, I momentarily glance at Rayssa.  She stares straight ahead, as if deeply preoccupied.  I feel distracted myself.

I have never been in this building, yet my feet guide me as if they know the way.  I feel so calm.  B and Rayssa and I walk down the corridor.

3F’s door is ajar.  We enter, locking ourselves in.  We are in a bare and tidy living room, where there is simply a couch, bookcase, and wall-mounted TV.  The room is dark, with only the streetlights below providing any illumination.

Bianca and Rayssa begin removing their clothes.  Both do this without a word, without so much as a glance at each other, in fact, without any hesitation.  Their faces are passive and blank, as if their minds are somewhere else.  I realize with slight surprise that I am stripping too.

Well, why wouldn’t I take off my clothes?  It seems perfectly natural to come into this apartment and get naked.  In fact, its all I want to do.  I smile slightly to myself as my dress falls down around my ankles.

Now we three girls are completely nude.  I’ve seen B and Rayssa in the showers, of course, but now as I look them over, I realize how luscious their bodies are.  Hours of daily practice has toned their bodies, making them curvy and sexy.

One of the greatest stereotypes of women football players is that we are all closet lesbians, that we only play a man’s sport because we secretly want to fuck other women.  It’s a cruel assumption!  I know B, Rayssa, and I have **_never once_** lusted for a woman.

But now, with my mind somehow clouded and in this ghostly light, I look at my sisters… and I feel aroused.  The curvature of Ray’s buttocks is firm and round; I want to squeeze them.  I look at B and admire how her naked breasts taper nicely over her tight abs.  I hope they like my body.

We hear a male voice:  “ _Manda Brasa, senhoras!_ ”  It is coming from the next room.

Without a word, B, Rayssa, and I move through this door.  In the room, we find a king-sized bed, a small dresser, and two dim little lamps.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, facing us, and smiling, is Augusto the Hypnotist.  He is naked.  As we enter, he spreads his legs, showing us his erect cock.

I feel a great compulsion to approach him, to place my hands on his body, to make love to him.  It is the only thing filling my mind.

B moves forward.  She kneels before Augusto, taking his dick in her hands and rubbing it.  The hypnotist closes his eyes in pleasure and moans softly.  With careful movement, B moves her right hand to cup his testicles and puts the tip of the penis in her mouth.

Now I am moving forward.  I can’t stop myself… nor do I want to.  I climb onto the bed to Augusto’s right.  Rayssa does the same on his left, and we meet one another at his back.  While the man is captivated by B’s tongue, we each kiss his shoulders and the back of his neck.  I run appreciative fingers over his muscles, counting his ribs.

I am really horny.  Its like I’ve lost self-control and must sexually feed from this man.  I sigh as my lips play over Augusto’s body.

And then I feel Rayssa’s delicate hand on my ass.  She cups me gently, a small but sensuous gesture.  I turn towards her in surprise, and her lips are there to meet mine.  We kiss.

I’ve never kissed a woman before.  The moment stuns me, and after the initial surprise, I melt into Rayssa’s grasp.  I can’t resist her.

Ray’s arms encircle me, and guide my body down onto the mattress.  I momentarily shiver when our breasts touch one another, and my nipples tingle.  Who knew the touch of breast-against-breast could be so erotic?  I moan a little, allowing my eyes to close.

I can hear B slurping away, working up a great spit.  Augusto is making little grunting sounds; B must be priming his cock like crazy.  I hope he has a great orgasm.

Now I am lying on my back, the naked Rayssa climbing on top of me.  To my left, Augusto is trembling as he cums into B’s mouth.  I place one hand on his lower back to remind him that I am here, but somehow I am Rayssa’s prisoner.  She has taken control of me and I must obey her.

Rayssa kneels over me, fondling my breasts with her lips and tongue.  I patiently let her play, absently watching her brown hair descend over my body like a curtain.  I can feel the warmth and pressure of her body atop mine.  I don’t want anything else in this moment.

Augusto falls back onto the mattress, groaning with delight.  His slimy cock is still completely erect, and it points at the ceiling in the dim light.  B rises up, climbing on top of him.  She kisses his mouth with big, sloppy gulps.  I hear her grunt and snarl with desire.

Rayssa rolls off me, and takes my hand.  Before I realize what she is doing, she is lying on her back and has guided my fingers to her clit.  I should be stunned; I’ve certainly never felt inside a woman before.  Instead, I feel calm.  No, I feel **_horny_**.  I want to pleasure her.

I explore Rayssa’s vagina, carefully noting where my fingers are whenever she sighs and exhales.  At the same time, I roll my body against hers, letting her feel me pressing against her skin.  Then I bury my face in her hair, smelling her shampoo and her very scent.  It intoxicates me.

Ray starts breathing heavily and then whimpering as I hone in on her erogenous zone.  There it is.  I have her.  I pluck her steadily, pressing against her body even harder.

“Oh…” pleads Rayssa, “don’t stop, _amiga_ …!  Just don’t stop.”

I hear Augusto say something to B, who immediately stops kissing him.  While I stroke Rayssa, B carefully crawls around our bodies.  She moved to climb on top of Ray, but I realize she is aligning her head with Ray’s pussy, and her own pussy with Ray’s lips.

I feel Augusto’s hands on my hips, pulling me away from my two friends.  With some reluctance, I release Rayssa’s pussy, but B is there and her skilled tongue replaces my fingers without interruption.  Rayssa cries wordless sighs of joy as she begins cumming into B’s mouth.  The bed trembles beneath us.

Meanwhile, Augusto’s strong hands are positioning me, guiding me to lie on my back.  And then the hypnotist is on top of me, forcing open my legs with his hands, kissing my breasts while he works.  I gasp as I am stimulated from head to toe.  Augusto is not the sexiest man I’ve ever been with, but right now, he completely commands my mind and body.  I am a toy in his capable hands.

And with one quick thrust, I feel Augusto’s cock enter me.  He is thick and on the initial entry, I am stunned by the force with which he uses.  But he slides all the way in without any friction; I must be so much wetter than I imagined!  I utter an involuntary cry, of helplessness and delight at the same time.

I look up.  Augusto is staring down at me, his gaze intense.  Instantly, I can’t look away.  Our gazes are rigidly fixed on one another’s.

Augusto’s cock pulls out, then thrusts back in again.  Slowly, steadily.  Ohhhh, he feels good.

“I am your master,” he growls.

I can’t escape his eyes.  “You are my master,” I agree helplessly.

He increases speed.  “You are my slave,” he tells me.

“I am your slave,” I moan.  I **_must_** obey him.  My orgasm is growing stronger.  I fall deeper under his power.

Augusto my master fucks me even faster, and now my entire body is trembling under the power of his thrusts.  I clutch his shoulders, hearing my own little voice pant, “Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!”

His cock enters me even harder.  I’m getting close.

My master breaks eye contact as he cums; I feel his cock thrust **_still faster_**.  He pounds **_harder_** and **_deeper_** , and man, I can feel his hips slam into the bottom of my ass like he’s trying to break me.  I looooooove it, oh, I’m so close, I’m so **_fucking close_** , I want to cum so badly, **_SO BADLY_** , I’m so close, ohhhhhhhhhhh his cock feels sooooo good inside me!!!  Oh, oh, **_oh, oh, oh…!!!_**

I’m nearly there!  Its like my orgasm is poking its head out of its shell, tempted to emerge.  Oh God, I want to cum!

Why am I acting like this?  Augusto has me under some kind of spell.  I am his slave.  The more submissive I am to him, the more…  I… will…  ooooohhhhhhHHHHHHH ** _HHHHHHHH…!!!_**

That last thought does it.  I’m cumming.  I’m **_fucking cumming so hard_** , I can’t stop myself from bellowing with joy and amazement.  I must be hosing down Augusto’s cock with my own juice.

I think about becoming his willing slave forever…

*********

I am lying on the bed, sweaty and exhausted.  B and Ray are lying next to me, and we are all naked.  I like how our bodies feel intertwined together.

Augusto sits up, also naked.  He passes a hand over our faces.  “You will **_sleeeeep…!_** ” he tells us.

My eyes close all on their own and my thoughts become foggy.  I’m no longer sure of where I am or who I am.  But weirdly, I don’t care.  This relaxation in my mind is so powerful, I am lazy and passive and happy to just bask here.

“ ** _And now,_** ” I hear Augusto’s voice, overriding my brain, “ ** _you will relax even deeper.  When I next tell you to open your eyes, you will stand and put on your clothes.  You will taxi home.  Then you will climb into your bed and fall fast asleep.  In the morning, you will forget everything that happened this evening._**

 ** _“You will forget…  You will forget…  You will forget…_** ”

*********


	3. Rayssa Goes and Spills the Beans

**_One week later…_ **

The game, surprisingly, is going well.  Quite well.

We are squaring off against the _Sopros de Pó_ , a team who were supposed to be quite formidable.  But so far, our offense is shredding their defense.  Well, to be specific, Bianca, Rayssa, and I are.

I smile tightly to myself.  The weather is good, our team is rested, and I feel amazing.  **_Amazing!_**   These new shoes are even better than I’d hoped.  I can effortless race across the green, and it feels like my feet are bouncing off clouds.  My body is coursing with energy and I have excellent focus.  I can see three steps ahead of the other team.  This is the best I’ve played in **_years_**.

The ref blows the whistle, and the _Sopros_ accept the ball.  They advance from their goal, moving cautiously.  Five of them are in a guard formation, protecting their leader.  If the score wasn’t already 7-2 in our favor, I’d be worried.

I glance to my left, then to my right.  Bianca and Rayssa are ready.  As one, we charge.

The guards move to intercept us, but we are unafraid.  I barrel forward, baring my teeth.  At the last minute, my interceptor veers off, as I knew she would.  I bear down on the leader.

Meanwhile, B has penetrated their left flank and Rayssa is about to do the same.  We’ve effectively punctured their defenses.  Time to execute the plan.

Knowing the _Sopros_ are watching me, I feign to the left, towards B.  This suggests B will cover me in as I make a run for the ball.  The remaining two guards swoop in to block me, fooled by our performance.  B and I are too fast and running in perfect syncopation.

Their leader has no choice but to slow down.  We’ve scattered her defenders and she’s unguarded.  Aww, too bad.  But she’s tacking away from me and B, and that sets her up for the trap.

Rayssa suddenly changes direction, **_racing across the field at top speed_**.  I hear the _Sopros’_ coach yell in alarm, but its too late.  This play is **_over_**.  Distracted by Bianca and myself, the _Sopros_ leader never sees Ray until the ball is kicked right out from under her.

Perfect!  Bianca and I are positioned right where we need to be.  I intercept and pass to B.  From there, it’s a simple shot into the corner of their goal.

**_We score!!!_ **

**_8-2!!!_ **

We’ve managed to sink the point before the other team even realizes how badly they’ve been played.

To my amazement, the crowd roars with delight.  There are maybe a hundred spectators, but they whoop and cheer like an army of thousands.  It feels good.

*********

Our teammates surround us, bouncing up and down as if they are all five years old.  We crushed the formidable _Sopros_!  Oh, it feels so great!

“You three were on fire!” gushes Hadassa, our right midfielder.  She’s talking to B, Rayssa, and me.  The rest of the team agrees.

I can’t hold back my smile.  I’ve never been the breakout star of any team; this is such an awesome feeling.

“What’s your secret?” asks our secondary striker, Betina.  She looks at me with awe.

I shrug and answer honestly, “New shoes.  My old ones were at least two years old.”

*********

An hour later, we are in the locker room, dressed in our street clothes and packing up our bags.  Eloá reports that there are actually fans outside who want our autographs!  Wow!  That’s a first.

“You guys,” Rayssa says quietly to B and me, “You guys do realize why we rocked today, right?”

“Why?” I say, zipping up my bag.

“The hypnosis,” Ray says pointedly.

I regard her skeptically.

“Think about it,” insists Ray.  “The hypnotist guy **_did_** say he was going to give us suggestions to enhance our game.”

“ ** _Hypnotist?_** ” Hadassa echoes, behind us.

Uh-oh.

*********

B and I try to brush off Hadassa, but our sisters sense that something’s up.  There’s nothing like the whiff of gossip to attract the curious.

And of course, Rayssa goes and spills the beans.  “Oh, Valentina and Bianca and me, we got hypnotized for a paid video shoot,” she casually explains to Hadassa.  Joana, Betina, and Eloá cluster around, their eyes shining.

“No!” exclaims Hadassa.

“Oh sure,” Ray shrugs.  “It was no big deal.”

“What did the guy make you do?” Eloá asks, her eyes wide.

“Ray…” I say warningly.

My friend ignores me.  “Oh, just silly sexy girl stuff,” Ray replies.  “Nothing, really.”

To my horror, she then says, “Here, look for yourself…” and draws out her phone.

“Ray!” I exclaim, but its too late.  Hadassa is already grabbing the little device.

The “You pinched my butt!” video clip plays.  I turn bright red, suddenly humiliated.

“See?” says Rayssa when it finishes.  “The whole thing was dumb like that.  Men like that _porcaria_ , I guess.”

Hadassa taps the dancing video.  I hear the dancing music play.

“I gotta go,” mutters B, humiliated.  And she flees the scene.  I would flee too, except that my bag isn’t packed yet.  I hurriedly empty my locker.

My teammates are mesmerized by the video.  “ _Ó meu Deus!_ ” Joana exclaims.  Eloá puts a hand over her mouth at the moment when the camera zooms in on my dancing butt.

I’m **_so annoyed_** at Ray.  She may not think getting hypnotized is a big deal, but I really would have preferred to keep this under wraps.

The video finishes.

“Wow, Valentina,” Joana says to me, “you were quite the star.”

“Weren’t you embarrassed by what the guy made you do?” Eloá asks Rayssa.

Ray takes back her phone with a sly grin.  “Yeah, a little,” she admits.  “But its all harmless fun, really.  Afterwards, you laugh about it.”

I shoot Ray a dark glare.  I’m not laughing.

Hadassa looks enviously at my new shoes.  “He paid you **_how much?_** ”

I sigh.  “Fifteen hundred _reals_ ,” I fess up.

Hadassa, Joana, Betina, and Eloá all drop their jaws.  “ ** _Each?!?_** ” Betina echoes.

“And when are you going back?” Joana asks, a little too eagerly.

*********

I try to talk the girls out of doing a shoot with Augusto the Hypnotist, but their minds are made up.  “Com’on,” Hadassa tells me, “this guy shoots a video of you acting like an _idiota_ , but then you get paid **_and_** **_then_** you play like a superwoman on the field?  This is a no-brainer.  I’m doing it, too.”

“I’ll make the call,” Rayssa volunteers.  She taps away on her phone.

I roll my eyes and go back to packing up.  If my teammates want to get hypnotized, I guess that’s their business.

I absently listen as Ray schedules a shooting appointment for Hadassa, Joana, Betina, and Eloá.  Sounds like Augusto is excited about working with more football girls.  My teammates are nervous, but excited.

My bag is now packed.  I sling it over my shoulder, heading out.

“Hold on,” Ray says, catching me by the elbow.  “Augusto wants to talk with you.”

With me?  That’s weird.  Frowning a little, I take the phone.  “ _Olá?_ ” I say.

Augusto don’t bother with so much as a “hello.”  “ _Listen,_ ” he says immediately, “ _I’ve been getting user comments like_ louco _about you.  Your videos have been selling really, really well._ ”

Really?  That’s actually kind of creepy to hear.

“ _You want to come back to shoot another video with me?_ ” Augusto invites me.

“Ah, no,” I say quickly.

There’s a slight pause.  “ _I can increase your rate,_ ” the hypnotist offers.

“Really, no,” I repeat.  “Look, I have to-“

“ ** _Listen to my words,_** ” Augusto’s voice says…

…and suddenly I feel strange.  The room feels enormous, and the conversation of the other girls sounds far, far away.  My thoughts seem disjointed and confused.  And yet, I am perfectly tranquil.

“ ** _You want to return for another video,_** ” Augusto tells me.  His words are coming from the phone, yet inside my mind at the same time.  “ ** _You really enjoyed yourself last time.  Do you understand?_** ”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“ ** _Very good,_** ” Augusto says, sounding pleased.  He hangs up.

I blink once, feeling as if I was daydreaming for a second.

I hand the phone back to Ray.  “You know what?” I tell Hadassa.  “I’ll come with you guys.  I really enjoyed myself last time.”

*********

It is the following Wednesday evening, a few hours after my hypnosis shoot with Joana, Betina, Hadassa, and Eloá.  I am back in the team clubhouse, flipping through yesterday’s sports section.  Bianca and Rayssa are playing cards.  Once again, we three have the joint to ourselves.  How come none of our other teammates hang out here?

Of course, B and Ray have prodded me for details of the new shoot with Augusto.  I remember falling asleep as he chanted to me, but that’s about it.  I do have the vaguest memory of thinking I was a bunny rabbit and hopping about the room… and I think that was a hypnosis skit.  But I’m not sure.

Ah, _diabo_.  What do I care?  I am eighteen hundred _reals_ richer.  I can sign up for that gym membership now.  Or maybe treat B and Ray to one of the nicer dance clubs.  I have this weird feeling that we tried to go to a club last week, but…  Hmm, I’m not sure.  Maybe I’m imagining it.

Ray glances at her phone, and I know she’s scoping Augusto’s website to see if my latest video is up.

“Stop it,” I scold her.

“You’re an Internet star now,” grins Ray.  But she puts the phone down.

“I was thinking,” B says, re-arranging her cards.  “We definitely did play better after Augusto hypnotized us, no?”

“No doubt,” agreed Ray.

B nods.  “But that invincible feeling he gave us, it only lasted one game.”

I set down my paper.  “So?”

“So,” says B, giving me a pointed look, “I want to see how you perform in practice, Valentina.  If you’re a superwoman on the greens, we’ll know it is the hypnosis, no?”

I’m about to reply when I see the clock behind Ray’s head.  The digital display flips to 10:00 PM.

I have to go.

“I have to go,” I announce, rising to my feet.  “Sorry, I just remembered something.”

I ignore my friends’ surprised faces.  As I grab my purse and head out the door, I hear Ray ask, “What’s with her?”

*********

I am kneeling in Augusto’s bed, completely naked once again.  Before me is Joana, a sex expression on her beautiful face.  I lift her top off her and then pop open her bra.  As soon as I can cup her naked breasts, I push them together, making them into a soft canyon.  Then I kiss them so softly.

Joana sighs, closing her eyes.  I feel her spirt surrender to me.

“Good,” Augusto, my master, says.  I hear the pleasure in his voice.  “Make her wet, Valentina.  Make her want you.”

“Yes, master,” I hear myself say.

I throw aside Joana’s bra, then embrace her tightly.  I press our breasts together, taking care that her nipples come in contact with mine.  She moans, a little.  I lean forward, extending my tongue.  Using the upmost care, I lick the outside of her lips, as if I am applying lipstick.  I also slide my hands down her back towards her ass.

Poor Joana.  She’s completely under my sexual thrall.  The girl believes that I am her mistress, and I am showing her how much pleasure and control I can assert over her body.  She’s mine.

From the other side of the bed, Augusto watches Joana and me intently.  He’s naked, with a naked Betina, Hadassa, and Eloá draped about him.  As Joana and I perform our lesbian play, Augusto absently fondles Betina’s breasts.  Eloá is sucking his erect cock, but just enough to keep him stimulated.  He’s waiting to see which girl he wants to fuck first.

My sisters and I are all under his spell, of course.  He has this power where whatever he demands, we **_must_** do.  I don’t understand it at all.  But my thoughts are not very clear right now.  Its like I’m experiencing some kind of waking dream, where Augusto is in control.

Whatever.  I’m enslaved.  And I like it.

Joana is now whimpering with delight, actually trembling in my arms.  “I want you,” she breathes to me, just me.  “Please, Valentina, please touch me…!”

I am about to when Augusto commands, “Wait!”

I freeze.

Our master snaps his fingers, once.  The little sound is positively explosive in my befuddled mind.

Without hesitation, Betina and Hadassa detach from Augusto’s side and crawl across the mattress.  Betina seizes me; Hadassa takes Joana.  I want to resist, but Betina’s firm hands guide me down, onto my back.  She spreads my legs, her head descending.

Strange, a second ago, I felt so confident and powerful.  Now I am helpless in Betina’s grasp.  Its like I have to do whatever she wills.  I am her slave now.

Hadassa lies Joana next to me, and Joana and I have to scooch around a little so there’s room for everyone.

Then I feel a mouth at my vagina.  Betina!  The girls’ lips are tasting me, applying suction.  I gasp.

I’ve never, ever allowed another woman to touch me… down there.  If I could, I’d hop off this bed immediately.  But something has a hold of my mind, and I have to remain here.

Besides… if I’m being honest…  Betina feels really, really good down there.  I kinda like what she’d doing with her tongue.  In fact, I **_really_** like it.  My last boyfriend would eat me out whenever we retreated to his place.  He ate like a greedy hog at the trough.  Betina licks and sucks daintily, more like a princess at tea.  She is subtle and careful.

And loving.  Mmmmm…  Don’t stop, Betina…

Beside me, Joana mumbles something happily.  I glance down, and see Hadassa’s head bobbing away between Joana’s legs.  So Joana and I are both being eaten out by-

“ ** _Harder,_** ” commands Augusto.

Betina grips my inner thighs and pushes her face into my crotch.  _Dios,_ now her tongue is inside me!  _Puta merda!  Tão incrível!_  My eyes roll up in my head as pleasure roils over me.  My back arches.  I accidently clutch Joana’s hand; she clutches back.

“ ** _Harder!_** ” demands our master.

Betina loses her restraint.  Now she is the greedy animal feasting at my wetness, gulping and sucking and slurping and tonguing.  I cry out, helpless, but horny as fuck.  **_Oh God, I want to cum!_** I didn’t before when Betina started on my, but now I’ve lost control and I can’t think and all I want to do is cum all over her gorgeous, sexy face.  My legs are trembling like I just ran ten miles.

I’m close, I’m close, I’m close!  I press downwards, trying to push more of me onto Betina’s probing tongue.  More, more!

Augusto bellows commands, but I’m too far gone to register what he’s saying.  I am yelping with delight.

Suddenly Betina’s mouth vanishes and I feel a heavy body climb on top of me.  Augusto.  I hazily look up at him, puzzled, but still nearly ready to cum.

Losing no time, Augusto’s cock slides up into me, all the way into me.  He pulls out, then in again, and then he is fucking me at high speed.  My orgasm, nearly lost for a moment, is in full bloom again.  I shout and squeal and hug him as best I can as his manliness thunders inside me.  Oh, I’m so happy!

I cum as if live voltage strikes my body.  I feel a trembling, then a volcano of pleasure in my vayjayjay, which spreads like the light of a rising sun.  My body feels electrified.

I am babbling complete nonsense now, telling my master how incredible he feels and how much I love this.  I never want him to stop.  **_Never._**

*********

The next day is a long practice session on the field.

Coach Renan is worried about our upcoming match against the _Canários de Combate_ , who play hard and dirty.  While our team has done well over the last few games, the season could come to a screeching halt if the _Gatinhos_ clobber us.  So the coach drills us like slaves.

After five hours of drills and plays, however, I’d feeling pretty good.  My body is energetic and moves easily.  I’m finding it easy to think on my feet.

Bianca and Rayssa, however, are not so energized.  “How… are you… so damn perky today?” B demands, panting heavily.

“Eh?” I ask, ready to dash down the field.  I’m mentally focused.  Like a laser.

“You… you can hardly… stay still,” complains my friend.

In surprise, I look at B.  Holding her side, she is dripping with sweat, her hair matted into unattractive clumps about the back of her neck.  She looks beat.

Hadassa and Eloá zip by at top speed, chatting as they run.

I watch these two, wondering… do I have all this extra energy because Augusto hypnotized me?

*********

Luckily for Bianca, ugly rainclouds roll in, and they force us back to the team clubhouse.  We hit the showers.  But before we’re dismissed, Coach Renan wants to diagram out some plays.  And its not a bad idea; our game against the _Gatinhos_ is coming up fast.

The entire team all crams into the common room.  As Elisa wheels out the blackboard, the coach gives us general comments.

I like Coach Renan.  She’s in her forties, I think, with a tall figure and broad shoulders.  Kinda like the older sister I always wanted but never had.  She’s tough and strict, but I think she pushes us because she thinks we could be the best.  I can respect that.

“ _Se liga!_ ” the coach barks.  “Too many of you aren’t doing your morning running.  Rayssa, girl, you were winded after an hour!  Get that stamina up.”

She pauses.

“Team points to Eloá, Betina, Valentina, Joana.  And Hadassa.  Good determination, today, ladies.  Nice energy.”

Ana Sophia, our loudmouthed goalie, turned to Betina and actually asks aloud: “Is this because you guys got hypnotized?”

I close my eyes in exasperation.  Jesus, is **_everyone_** going to find out about the _Garotas Sensuais Hipnotizadas_ shoots!  _Tô ferrado!_

“Hypnotized?” Coach Renan repeats, not sounding pleased.

Hadassa, Joana, Betina, Eloá, and I all stare at the floor.

“Tell me about this hypnosis,” the coach says, using her _Don’t-Test-Me_ voice.

“We found a hypnotist,” Betina says quickly.  “We gave us suggestions for better concentration on the field.”  The pretty blonde girl blushes a little before she adds, “I didn’t think they’d work, but… _Legal!_   I thought my feet never touched the ground today.”

I know what she means.  Joana and Hadassa are nodding.

“Hmm,” Coach Renan muses, for once not upset about something happening behind her back.  “I’ve read hypnotism is useful for athletes.  Never believed it, though.”

“I think it sounds awesome,” Ana Sophia brags.  “I’ve already scheduled a session with the same hypnotist later this week.”

Several girls squawk with jealousy.  “I want to try it!” more than one protests.

I glance a Bianca and Rayssa, who look about as stunned as I feel.  What have we started?

*********

It is after 5:00 PM.  Most of the team has gone home.  I have nothing to do for this evening, so I decide I might as well make a grocery run.  Now that I have a little pocket money, maybe I can pick up a few things the girls actually like to eat.

Coach Renan is in her office as I head for the door.  “Valentina!” she barks as I nearly slip past.

Sighing, I enter her office.  “Shut the door,” the coach grunts.  I do so.

Clicking on her ancient computer, the coach pulls up a webpage.  I cringe when I see it:  _Garotas Sensuais Hipnotizadas._   Specifically, she’s looking at the footage of me hypnotized to believe I’m a bunny rabbit.

“Oh, Valentina…” Coach Renan sighs, as we watch me hop about and curiously sniff Augusto’s hand.  She seems more disappointed than angry, I’m relieved to say.

“It paid well,” I say quickly.  “Really well.  I needed new shoes!”

The coach says nothing, but clicks on the dancing video.

After my wiggling butt fills the screen, Coach Renan clicks off the website and fixes me with a disapproving stare.  “Valentina, I know the league puts a lot of pressure on you girls,” she says heavily.  “But you **_can’t_** be taking this kind of work, do you hear me?  Do you know what would happen if Diego Acosta saw this?”

Sr. Acosta is the team’s owner.  A bottom-line, people-don’t-matter-to-me businessman.  I swallow and shake my head.

“Sr. Acosta would boot you from the team for indecency,” Coach Renan warns me.  “In a heartbeat.”

“ _Compreendo_ ,” I promise sheepishly.

The coach leans forward.  “Valentina,” she says in a concerned, quiet voice.  “You’re one of my best players.  And you’re a good girl, I know that.  But you can’t do any more hypnosis videos, you get me?  I’ll speak to the other girls too, but they follow you.  Don’t let this happen again.  You get me?”

*********


	4. In the Middle of Pelourinho Square

I walk to the shops, thinking over what Coach Renan has told me.  I thought she would have exploded in anger when she saw Augusto’s videos.

I should count myself lucky.  Last season, the coach fired another girl who posed naked in the dirty magazines.  Not that getting hypnotized is the same thing, but Augusto’s videos are pretty racy.  Coach Renan hates racy.

“That’ll be 151.29 _reals_ , please,” the shopgirl says.

I blink.  Wait… where am I?

Oh.  I remember.  While walking down the street, completely lost in thought, I ducked into this shop.  A lingerie shop.  Without any conscious thought, I picked out something in my size and took I to the register.  I had no idea what I was doing!

“Ma’am?” the shopgirl asks, annoyed at my hesitation.

“Uh…” I say.

Confused, I fork over the money.  What did I just buy?

It’s a bra-and-panty set, so skimpy I could wad up both pieces in one palm.  Why am I buying this?  Its not like I have a boyfriend to entertain.

But for some reason, I must purchase this… this slutty little outfit.  I’m not sure why.

I pop the underwear into my purse and leave.  Within minutes, the whole encounter has faded from my thoughts.  Strange.

*********

When I get back from the grocery store, I know something’s up immediately.  The clubhouse is packed, and it looks like all my teammates are here, in their uniforms.  There’s a bubbly excitement in the air.  Everyone seems to gathered around some commotion at the center of the room.

But… wait a minute.  We don’t have a game tonight.  Coach Renan is no-where to be seen.  The heck…?

I’m greeted by Kamilly, our youngest player.  Very pretty.  She beams at me when I enter the common room.  “Hey Valentina!”

“Hey, Kam,” I say warily.  “What’s going on?”

“I’m nervous!” Kamilly confides in me.  “Tonight, I’m doing the hypnosis videos with the other girls!”

I feel like a rock just dropped into my stomach.  “What?!?”

Just then, I hear a familiar male voice: “ _Senhoras, senhoras!_   Pay attention, please!”

Augusto.

Fear grips me.  Augusto, here?!?  If Coach Renan learns that slimeball filmed a hypnosis video here in our own team clubhouse…  _Que Cara-de-pau!_  I have to stop this.

“ ** _Sleep!  Sleep!_** ” I hear the hypnotist bellow.  The girls around me murmur in excitement.

I push through my sisters to find Augusto standing in the center of the common room, grinning like crazy.  Bianca and Rayssa are standing next to him, their eyes closed, their faces blank, and their bodies motionless.  Oh, God.  He’s just rehypnotized them.

“See that, _senhoras_?” mugs Augusto.  “My powers are considerable, no?”

“Wake them up!” I demand, elbowing my way to the front.  “Our coach says you’re not to-“

“Ah, Valentina,” Augusto exclaims.  “My star!”

“Wake them up,” I demand, and move to grab and shake B from her trance.

“ _Uau!_ ” says Augusto, standing in my way.  “What’s the problem?  We’re just gonna have some fun here tonight, that’s all.”

He points to his eyes.  “Look here, Valentina,” he commands somberly.

He wants me to look into his eyes.  He wants to hypnotize me again.

“Its not going to work, _babaca_ ,” I warn.  And yet, I feel my gaze drawn into his eyes…

“No?” Augusto smirks.  He passes a hand over my face.  “ ** _Sleep…!_** ”

Instantly, my eyes close, and I remember nothing more.

*********

“One, two, three, four… **_five!!!_** ”

Augusto has just counted up, and on the last number, my eyes open all by themselves.  I blink, looking about.  I don’t remember anything, not since looking into his eyes, anyway.  Where am I?

Oh.  I know, Jeez, I’m standing in the middle of Pelourinho Square.  It’s the historic district of Salvador, known for monuments, grand old Brazilian architecture, and trendy shops.  This is where the tourists come when they visit.  I visited here myself when I first arrived in town.

I look about, confused.  I’m standing here in my football uniform, with all my teammates.  We are all blinking and taking stock.  And Augusto is standing off to the side, a digicamera in his fingers.

Oh, God.  We’re waking up from hypnosis.  I frantically search my mind.  Do I remember any commands?  Do I know what Augusto is going to make me do?

I remember nothing.

I quickly count heads.  Jesus Christ, Augusto has hypnotized **_the entire team?_**   How is that possible?

“Hey girls,” Augusto smiles.  He raises the camera.  “You ready?”

“What did you do to us?” I demand angrily.

“Nothing, nothing,” the hypnotist assures me.  “Listen, don’t you want to greet the out-of-towners?  Make them feel at home here in our city?”

I stop short.  My thoughts are momentarily jumbled.

Suddenly, I feel carefree and euphoric.  You know, Augusto’s right!  Look at these tourists!  I **_do_** want them to love our fair city!  Why, it’s the most important thing in the world to me right now!

Feeling almost delirious, I skip over to a pair of Asian gentlemen, snapping pictures of Anchieta Plaza.  Augusto follows me, filming everything, but I ignore him.  I’m concerned about those tourists.

“ _Bem vinda_ , gentlemen!” I cry out with gusto.  “Welcome to Salvador!”

The Asian gentlemen gape at me, stunned.

I make a big show of hugging both of them, taking care to press my breasts against them and wiggle my butt during the embrace.  I’m feeling light-headed and giggly, almost as if I’ve guzzled champagne.

I take the arm of the smaller gentleman, smiling ear to ear.  “I’m Valentina,” I introduce myself, flirting like crazy.  “I play football here.  Do you gentlemen like women’s football?”

The two men are tongue-tied.  “Eh…” is the best one of them can manage.  The other fumbles with his Portuguese phrasebook.

“Let me show you why you should come to all our games!” I squeal.

And for some reason, I step away and begin to dance.  Slowly, swaying my hips and shoulders.  I rub my hands over my breasts and stomach and thighs, and make sure to stick my butt out as much as possible.  I also adopt a sleepy-but-aroused expression, making sure to keep my eyelids half-closed.

 _Nossa_ , this all feels so **_natural!_**   I don’t know why I’m doing this sexy dance, but who cares?  The gentlemen’s eyes are on me, and that’s all that matters.  I bend my knees more, and run my fingers through my hair.

A crowd of the curious is forming around me.  Well, let them look.  I’m sexy, and I love it.  I smile a little as my hands slip under my uniform top and pull it over my head.  To my surprise, I’m wearing that skimpy little bra from the lingerie shop.  It barely holds my breasts.  In fact, the tops of my areolas are showing.  Oh well.

I slink out of my uniform shorts, and of course, I’m wearing the butt-floss thong panties which match the bra.  The men watching me cheer and hoot.  So I smile widely, dancing even harder.

Augusto is filming everything.

When I’ve had enough dancing, I leap up, hugging the Asian tourists once again.  Then I happily pose for a selfie with them, making sure my cleavage is featured in the shot.

“Hey, how ‘bout a dance for me, honey?” a fat Peruvian man asks.

I grin.  I can do that.

*********

I spend the evening dancing and flirting with the male tourists.  As I do, I feel myself losing more and more control of my mind, and pretty soon I am acting without any conscious thought.  Its like I am dreaming, the dream is sweeping me along, and I am happy to be its puppet.

As I throw myself at more men, I dimly notice my teammates.  They are also in their underwear, dancing and mugging with the tourists.  We all seem to be ridiculously happy.

At one point, I bump into Rayssa.  The men I am entertaining begin chanting, “ ** _Kiss!  Kiss!  Kiss!_** ” and suddenly I have to kiss Ray.  **_I have to._**   I scoop her up in my arms and gently caress her lips with mine.  Ray melts at my touch.  I fondle one of her breasts as the kiss lingers.  The men applaud and cheer.

Funny, I have this feeling that I’ve kissed Ray before…

All the while, Augusto is filming, filming, filming.  He can’t stop smiling, and he seems to be everywhere with that damn camera.  The tourists, of course, have pulled out their smartphones, and they’re snapping footage like crazy.

I smile inside.  I don’t care.  I love what I’m doing.  I flounce up to three sailors, making sure to bounce my breasts as I approach.

*********

It is later.  I am in Augusto’s apartment, allowing him to peel off my thong panties.  He’s standing behind me, and he’s close enough I can feel his erect cock pressed against the back of my legs.

We’re in Augusto’s dark bedroom, just him and me.  After the sun set, Augusto rounded up the whole team, re-hypnotized them, and sent them home with envelopes of money and their memories erased.  My teammates will rise tomorrow morning wondering what they did while entranced… but they will quickly lose interest.

And me?  Augusto took me aside and cast his spell over me once again.  He is once again my master, and I’m so happy that he’s about to fuck me.  So happy.  How could I not have always loved this man?

My panties drop to the floor, and I am naked.  I sigh contentedly.  My master steers me up against his bed, and I climb on, making sure my butt still sticks out over the edge.  Augusto grips my hips, lowering me down.

Ah.  Ah, yes, there’s his cock.  It nudges my wetness from behind, just the way I like it.  I let out a low moan and grip the topsheets.

*********

The next morning, I wake in the team clubhouse, in my own bunk.  Immediately, I feel the stab of regret and fear.

 _A merda…!_   Augusto.

I remember now… I think.  He was here, at the team clubhouse!  He hypnotized the whole team, me included!  What did he make us do…?

…eh…

Ah, Jeez, I can’t remember.  Seriously, I have no idea.  The last thing I remember… is that wretched _babaca_ telling me to sleep, and then…  Nothing.

(Wait, I do have the slightest sensation of having really great sex from behind… but that was probably a dream, right?  I would **_never_** do it with Augusto.)

 _Clear your head,_ I tell myself firmly.  Today is our game against the _Canários de Combate_.  I need to be top of my form today.

*********

After my morning run, I do some stretches and meditation before getting suited up for the game.  It doesn’t do much to calm my anxiety.  And when I step into the locker room, I immediately feel a thousand times worse.

The team is here, climbing into their uniforms and looking terrified.  I hesitate before going to my locker.

“ ** _Valentina!_** ” a voice hisses to my left.  Its Rayssa.

“Hey,” I greet her nervously.

But Ray looks positively stricken.  “You haven’t seen, have you?” she asks me, dread in her voice.

Without waiting for my answer, she pulls out her smartphone, taps a link, and then shows me a video.

I want to vomit.  There, in the tiny screen, is me, dressed in… _porcaria!_   The world’s tiniest thong and bra.  I’ve never seen that underwear before!  I am in what is **_unmistakably_** Pelourinho Square, dancing like a slutty Carnival girl for staring tourists.  I look drunk.

I shriek, covering my mouth with both hands.

“I know!” wails Ray.  “Most of the footage is of you, but I’m in here too.”

“ _Caralho!_ ” I swear.

To my horror, the me in the video teasingly tells her audience: “ _You like what you see, gentlemen?  Come see me play football!  I play for the_ Lutando com Gatinhas.”  Then I shake my ass playfully.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.  I shove away the phone; I can’t watch any more.

Now as I look around the locker room, I see fear in every girl’s eye.  I remember now!  We were all there, dancing almost naked in Pelourinho Square!

**_Goddamn Augusto!_ **

“It’ll be okay,” I say, mostly to myself.  “The videos are only up on Augusto’s website.  Only perverts will see them.  No-one will know.”

“No-one will know?” parrots Ray, staring at me.  She holds up her phone.  “Valentina, I didn’t show you Augusto’s website.  **_This was the evening news!_** ”

In horror, I see the scene cut to Luiz Fernando Benítez and Débora Medina, the Salvador’s two local news anchors, sitting behind their newsdesk.  Luiz Fernando is chuckling.

“ _Well,_ ” he grins, “ _it looks like our local football ladies are making all feel at home in our city!  Lookin’ good, girls!_ ”

Débora does not seem amused.

I stare at Rayssa in sheer terror.

*********

As much as I want to crawl into a hole for the rest of my life, we have a game to play.  I grit my teeth, force my head up high, and march out onto the field with my teammates.  I see Coach Renan glare at me.  I do all I can to avoid eye contact with her.

When we reach the field, I am stunned to see the bleachers are filled **_past_** capacity!  People are bunched up two to a seat!  The aisles are packed!  There’s even a crowd of people clamoring behind the fences, straining to see us.  My jaw falls open.

“What…?” Bianca exclaims.

As my teammates stare at the seas of people, a cheer goes up.  “ ** _Gatinhas!_** ” they yell, bellowing our team name.  “ ** _Gatinhas!  Gatinhas!  Gatinhas!_** ”

I peer a little closer.  In the crowd, there are a ton of men, all staring at my sisters and me with hungry eyes.  I lock eyes with a scrawny fellow with heavy stubble, and he grins at me.  Then, with obvious relish, he pantomimes swinging a pocketwatch before my eyes.

“ ** _Gatinhas hipnotizadas!_** ” he shouts, and many other men laugh heartily.

“They saw the videos,” Rayssa says dully.

*********

Thankfully, the game is underway in moments.  My sisters and I square off against the _Canários de Combate_ , who look even scarier in person.  I think a few of them might be men in women’s football shorts.  Coach Renan is pale.

But the opening whistle blows, and within minutes, my teammates and I realize we have nothing to worry about.  Our offense is ruthless, slicing into the _Canários’_ assaults with ease and an almost spunky irreverence.  Bianca, Rayssa, and I dance past their guards, sending their goalie into fits with our fast footwork.  Within the first twenty minutes, we’re up four points.

I smile to myself as I realize I’m actually enjoying this game.  My teammates are smiling, too.

*********

When the final whistle blows, I can’t believe it!  We **_CRUSHED_** the _Canários_ , 28-5!!!  **_WE CRUSHED THEM!!!_**   In one ten-minute stretch, B, Ray, and I scored eight times!  **_Eight times!!!_**    I’ve never had so much magic in my feet!

The team leaps and jumps about, delirious in our glory.  Even Coach Renan loses her composure and races out to hug us.  We whoop and cheer and scream and dance like crazy women.  I am so proud of my sisters, every one.

And then…

Then we are aware of a thunderous noise, a sound like the heavens themselves are opening up with adulation.  My teammates look up, and see the crowds on their feet, clapping, cheering, and screaming for us.  I’d almost forgot about them!  Now that our victory is sealed, every spectator is bellowing in wonder and excitement!  **_For us!_**

I stand in awe.

Its like I told you, Brazil loves **_good football_**.  More than anything.

*********


	5. Epilogue:  What I Had in Mind

Bianca and I race down the field, determined to keep the ball between the two of us this time.  Our opponents, the _Peixinho Dourado_ , are a lot tougher than we’d anticipated.  In fact-

Oh damn!  Their right flanker just came out of no-where, snatching the ball right out from under me!  _Merda!_   B and I have no choice but to swing about and give pursuit.

We pour on the speed, but its too late.  The _Peixinho_ flanker choose her opening well.  She shoots and Ana Sophia isn’t fast enough to block the ball.  _Peixinho_ scores.

The big crowd applauds, loudly.

I slow up, struggling to catch my breath.

“Damn,” B grunts next to me.  “They’re faster than I expected.”

“We’ll get ‘em yet,” I growl with determination.

The crowd is cheering and hooting.  “Uh, Valentina,” B says.  “You’ve popped out again.”

I look down and swear.  Sure enough, my breasts are hanging out from under my tiny uniform top.

When Diego Acosta, our team’s owner, learned about our hypnosis videos, he nearly fired the whole team.  Except then he saw the box office revenue.  And had second thoughts.

So now we play in the tightest, skimpiest little uniforms you can imagine.  I’m not sure I can even call these outfits “uniforms.”  The top is little more than an undersized sports bra, and the shorts are barely a ribbon around my butt cheeks and crotch.  Seriously, you can see the lower half of my ass in these things.  And I now my boobs pop out five or six times a game.

I suppose I should be grateful.  The videos with Augusto caused a public scandal, nearly ending our team and the entire _Liga de Futebol das Mulheres_ league.  But owners like Sr. Acosta realized that we could entice the crowds with the promise of sexy girls in tiny little outfits.  The crowds come for the tits and butts, but they stay for killer football.

And Augusto?  I haven’t seen nor heard from him ever since Pelourinho Square.  I’ve heard that the notoriety from that stunt made him millions.  Now he films perverted hypnosis videos with top-dollar models from Sao Paulo and America.  He’s moved into the big leagues.

Good riddance.

Rayssa jogs up.  “Hey,” she pants to me and Ray.  “You know why these _Peixinho_ bitches are so good?”

I cock one eyebrow, still fixing my top.

“Their team has a staff hypnotist,” Ray informs us.

“Then they’re the third team to get one this month,” B grumbles.

I set my jaw.  “We can still take ‘em,” I declare.

The referee blasts his whistle, signaling we need to get into position.  I hurry to my spot.

As I get in place, I glance into the packed bleachers.  There are three little girls, all clinging to the rails, all starting at me with wide eyes.  Not one of them can’t be more than seven years old.  The littlest studies my face, and then my barely-there outfit.  What must she be thinking?

When I joined _Liga de Futebol das Mulheres_ , I wanted to inspire girls to play our sport.  But I’m not sure this is what I had in mind.

*********


End file.
